I'll be fine
by WhovisHouse
Summary: England has forgotten about an appointment with America and the taller nation has the brilliant idea to go and look for the Brit. He didn't like what he found. Little one-shot with lots of feels


This is in America's perspective gais.

This is also just a very mini one-shot for feels and because I can.

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><p>"ENGLAND!" I shouted as I burst through his door. He was meant to meet me today, where is he? We were supposed to discuss some important politic bullshit, but...in all honesty I just wanted to hang out with him.<p>

But he hasn't showed up!

Ass...

And I had to eat his McDonalds...

Although I suppose that's okay...

Anyway, where is he?

I check all over the house. His living room looks untouched, though well-lived in. His kitchen is sparkling clean and looks like he hasn't used it in a month, thank god. His dining room is empty, so is the bathroom and the guestroom. Now, the only thing left is his bedroom.

I haven't been in his bedroom in a while, the last time I came in here was when I came for a surprise visit and he was still sleeping. He never knew about that visit...That's not creepy is it?

I slowly open the cherry-wooden door to his bedroom.

His low bed came into view first, the Union Flag covers neat and tidy, though it looks like someone was just lying right on top of them. Weird. His dark and glossy desk is neat with a small book open on it, and the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf covering most of the far wall looked as it always did. Nothing is out of the ordinary.

So why does it feel as if something is wrong?

I run my fingers over the shiny and smooth wood of his desk, looking curiously down at the open book. It looks old, but not centuries old, old enough for the pages to yellow at the edges, and the leather bounding it is cracked slightly. It's his cursive in the book, so, what? This is a journal or a diary? I walk around to the front of the desk and sit down in the computer chair he uses, moving the laptop off it first, and begin to read.

_10th February, 2014_

_I felt empty today. I don't really know why, I just woke up with this hollow in my chest. It's rather strange._

_It won't go away, either._

_It's like a nagging feeling. _

The writing is rather shaky here and difficult to read, but I manage it.

_And it keeps reminding me of that day. Although, this emptiness is **nothing **compared to the physical and emotional agony of that day. My heart was literally shattering, I could feel it. I know it. It was the worst pain._

_That and the shame of it. I mean, I know I'm a bit sensitive nowadays, but back then. Back then..._

_Apparently America has been wanting to spend time with me. I was looking forward to it, I was! But I'm afraid. I know it's not wise to get close to **anyone** again, lest they leave me kneeling in the mud with a shattered heart. But I want to. I don't like being on my own. I mean, most of the people who used to look up to me and love me, now all hate me. I don't want them to like me once more, only to realise they have made a mistake and I've been taken a fool of. Again. _

_But I want them to like me._

_I want to have friends._

**_I don't want to be alone anymore..._**

_But. I'll be fine._

_-England._

I felt like crying.

So that's how he felt, all this time, huh? He sounded so...robotic. Sad...Lonely...

Then the door opened.

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><p>I turned around to spot a certain caterpillar-browed Englishman walk in through the door. He spots me, and stares right into me with large, confused emerald eyes.<p>

Then he looks back at the journal on his desk.

And his expression changes from confusion to horror.

"You didn't...r-read it...did you...?" He asks in a shaky voice.

"Yes. I did," I say in a strong voice, surprising even myself. But, I suppose, England needs help from someone who understands the situation and, at the moment, that's me.

"Aaaah, shit," He covers his face with his palm and faces the floor.

"England-"

"No, don't touch me, don't even come near me," He chokes out in a damp voice.

"England-"

"I can't believe you... You would look at something so private-!"

"England!"

We pause.

"Look, I'm sorry I read your...journal, and I'm sorry I 'invaded your privacy' and I'm sorry you ever felt this way!" I shout out in one breath, and continue before he has a chance to interrupt me. "England, I want to help you. I'll always want to help you and I'll **never **leave you or hurt you again. I'm...I-I'm so sorry..."

Another pause.

Then England smiles gently at me.

"It's a start," He says calmly, "Come, I should get you some tea. You are a guest after all,"

"I was invited,"

"...That was today...?"


End file.
